Gotham's Favorite Son
by Redhazard
Summary: In many ways, the city loves its favorite son. It loves him so much.


Disclaimer: Redhazard owns neither Gotham nor Batman.

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xXx

Gotham is a twisted, rotten thing.

Everyone knows it to some degree. Those who don't soon learn. A neutered police force. Kids who are younger than ten and already living in the streets. Thieves and beggars. An upper class as cynical as it is corrupt. People who can have you killed with a word. Crimes so blatant in scope the police has no choice but to hide them lest the press learns of their uselessness.

Gotham is a rotten city, a place where the wicked feast on the weak and wounded. A place where virtue and innocence are crushed without mercy.

Everyone learns that truth eventually.

That is only the half of it.

People don't understand the rot goes deeper. Way deeper. Something had gone wrong with Gotham. It had gone wrong the moment the first settlers arrived. Maybe even before that.

In any case, it started in Crime Alley.

Like the city it is part of, it has gone through several renovations. It has changed name more than once.

Regardless, it started there. It always starts there.

Something went wrong at a primordial level. Something that shouldn't have been born was born. Something dark, twisted, and wrong.

Call it superstition. Call it mysticism. Call it a bunch of crap.

It is what it is.

Gotham lives.

It is twisted. It is eldritch.

 _It is alive_.

It all comes down to Crime Alley.

When Thomas and Martha Wayne are killed something breaks. The city's last remaining pillars of goodness are gone. Something pure and innocent is lost forever.

However, there is a balance to these things.

Death follows life. Life follows death.

Something is born.

The shooter is the first to notice it, the first to see _It_.

He aims the gun at a boy who is not even thirteen yet. He has killed before. He has killed kids before. It is not mercy that keeps him from doing it.

It is the eyes.

The boy is consumed by grief and seconds away from breaking down into tears. He's weak. Physically and mentally, he's weak just like any other kid.

He is not a threat.

The gunman keeps telling himself that. Because it is the truth. Because it is logical.

So then, _what the hell is that thing_?

He sees it. It's hiding behind the kid's eyes. The more he looks into them, the clearer the image becomes. It looms over him, casting everything in shadow.

He sees it and it terrifies him.

Because it is wrong.

A child's eyes should not have so much darkness in them. Something is broken there. It's twisted and relentless. It will not rest. It will not stop. It cannot stop.

It will hunt him. It will hunt him and swallow him whole.

He flees. He rushes past the kid and breaks into a run.

It is useless.

Those eyes will haunt him till the end of his days.

It is all about balance. Something pure and good was taken from the world. A child's parents murdered and his innocence brutally taken away.

Something must be born in its place.

That night is dark. Darker than any other before.

They feel it. Every crook. Every thief. Every murderer. They all feel the coldness. The primal fear creeping into their souls. It is weak now. It is small now. They can dismiss it as the chill of the night.

Only Gotham is aware of what is happening and the city howls with glee.

In many ways, Bruce Wayne dies the same night as his parents.

Something new has been born. Something as dark as the city that gave birth to him. A broken, terrible thing.

And Gotham is happy.

It has waited. Oh, it has waited so long.

Gotham welcomes its favorite son with open arms.

xXx

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AN: I binged the show on Netflix about two weeks ago. It was fun. I like the idea of Kid Bruce. Inspired me to write this short drabble.

What can I say? _Dark Knight, Dark City_ was one of the first Batman comics I read and one of my favorites. Not my definite favorite (That would be _Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader_ ), but it's up there.

Anyway, if you enjoyed this be sure to leave a review.


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